


3 AM

by Little_Firestar84



Category: Supernatural, Witchblade (Comics), Witchblade - All Media Types
Genre: Alex Underwood is the new bearer, Magic, Spoilerish, Witchblade - Freeform, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 18:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16792240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Firestar84/pseuds/Little_Firestar84
Summary: At 3 am, Rowena collapsed unconscious on the floor of the war room of the Men of Letters bunker, as a breeze coming seemingly from nowhere at all blew the candle surrounding her out, her prayer for a way to save Jack still unheard.At 3 am, Alex Underwood, bearer of the Witchblade, woke up screaming, hunted by visions of a young man chocking on his own blood and  exploding in an infinite sea of fire from within, and the feeling that she and she alone could save him.





	3 AM

At 3 am, Alex Underwood woke up screaming, hunted by visions of a young man chocking his own blood and _exploding_ in an infinite sea of fire from within.

The same dream. Every night. At the same hour. For six days. 

_ Scratch that, make it seven. _

The Witchblade burnt at her right wrist, the blood red gem shining like a beacon of sort- for what purpose, and the former journalist once again cursed the damned artifact. She owed the Witchblade – her life, her love still at her side – but, still, she knew that every day she carried the Artifact on her, madness was a little bit closer, and Death, her companion. 

She felt a whisper in the back of her mind – many soul screaming at the same time in all manners of languages. 

Before, the Witchblade had spoken to her in a manner she could understand. Now, Alex was blind and deaf to the Artifact’s cry for help. Or maybe, Alex thought, shivering, that was it. The moment Ash had told her about. When the bearer- the _host –_ would just go insane and kill herself. 

“You know what? Fuck you!” She hissed between clenched teeth, as she kicked the sheets onto the floor.

She grabbed her phone, and sent the same text to both Ash and Maj, and got dressed in a hurry. 

She wasn’t going to allow the Witchblade to have her sanity. 

She was going to get to the bottom of it. No matter what. 

***

At 3 am, Rowena collapsed unconscious on the floor of the war room of the Men of Letters bunker, as a breeze coming seemingly from nowhere at all blew the candle surrounding her out.

It was the same thing, every night, at the same hour.

She was at try number seventh. 

And yet again, she had failed in summoning the entity she so desperately needed to save Jack’s life- something as old as creation itself, a force of Light, of infinite goodness whose power would equal – if not exceed – those of an Archangel. 

The Witchblade, like many other Artifacts, was hidden to her. 

And the bearer, deaf to her cry for help.

***

Reciting an ancient ode in a long-dead language, Ash turned on, one by one, all the candles surrounding Alex’s body on the floor of the unconsecrated old church, the former parish of man who had mysteriously disappeared many years before, Father Tom Judge.

The Aquarian Star was lit, a violet light engulfing Alex, and the Witchblade heard her prayer. 

She heard it- and she decided, for once, to answer it. 

Tentacles of solid light came to life from the shining gem, blinding everyone to its powers and its secrets, and Alex felt herself disappear into nothingness, as she was nothing but a being of energy and light lost in a sea of black. 

Thick darkness – her formidable and never-ending adversary – surrounded her, and she shivered in fear, and in cold – the same cold she had been engulfed by the day of her death, when her destiny as the Chosen One was signed by her last breath and her eventual resurrection. 

Only desperation filled her heart, as Alex feared that would have been it, her final day on Earth, but then, one by one, strong and warms hands grabbed her from behind, and she was dragged away, just to step into the welcoming embrace of light. 

She opened her eyes, and there they stood. Each and every one of them – from Una to Joan of Arc and even Mulan and Cleopatraand all the other women who had wielded the formidable weapon at their wrists.

_ We told you, Alex, that the Witchblade granted visions of things to come, a deeper understanding of magic. That’s what you saw- Heaven’s salvation, falling victim to his father’s machinations.  _

The women stared at her. She heard the voice, and yet, none of them was speaking. Yet, it was like they were all connected – like that thought belonged to each and every one of them. 

_ Only a power equal to those of an Archangel can save the child. That’s what we are. This is our mission. The Darkness has been subdued – but without the Nephilim, it will rise once again, bringing Onslaught to everything that it is. _

“How do I find him?”

Joan smiled kind, and touched with her Witchblade Alex’s forehead, granting her the truth – and the full particulars of her mission.

***

At 3 am, no one answered Rowena’s cry for help. 

The witch frantically looked through all of her books, and yet, she didn’t understand. 

For the last seven nights, she had at least felt the Witchblade, even if her words had been lost. 

This night, she didn’t feel anything – nor anyone.

She didn’t know if being relieved or terrified.

***

They were at the Jack’s bedside when the siren of the alarm sang with the strengths of thousands of bells. 

Immediately, Sam and Dean run towards the stairs, blades and guns ready to fight any sort of creature strong enough to walk through the many sigils posted as safeguard to their home. 

They didn’t know what to expect – but, for sure, it wasn’t a young woman who walked with confidence, and strength coming from within; Dean’s eyes fell on the shiny bracelet on her wrist, the red gem palpitating with its light and power, and without asking for a second opinion or give the woman time to explain, he lifts his gun, ready to fire a bullet to her heart.

“Gentlemen, I’m trying to save a young man’s life here. If you could tune it down just a tiny little bit…” Rowena’s voice, as she joined them, filled the silence, and gave no imagination to what lengths she’d go to get what she wanted. She faced Sam and Dean, and, slowly, feeling a presence, she stared at Alex, grinning on the stairs, the Witchblade _burning,_ happy and relieved, as she took the few steps that separated the two women. 

“You came!”Rowena gasped in surprise, taking Alex’s hands in her owns – and to the bearer’s surprise, the Artifact didn’t act up, giving off instead something oddly similar to _joy._

“Gentlemen, be kind to this young lady – she is the bearer of the Digitabulum, the one I prayed to, so that we could save Young Jack.” 

“The what?” Dean asked, looking at Sam, but his brother just shrugged – all the lore he had heard, read about, he didn’t remember anything of sort. 

Castiel, Angel with the trench coat, as old as creation itself, Favorite among his kind to his father, step on; getting closer to the bearer, he skimmed over the red gem, the light warm and welcoming. He inhaled deeply his eyes closed, and for a moment, he was back in Heaven, his celestial home restored to his former glory, finally at peace under the loving gaze of the all-knowing Father.

“There’s an old myth in Heaven, that’s been long forbidden.” He calmly stated, turning to face Dean and Sam, his hand still on Alex’s wrist, as he wanted to make sure it was there, that it was all real, and not just a dream or a cruel illusion. “The Darkness was enveloping the world and Heaven in chaos when thirteen brave souls rose up, and aided the Archangels in banishing the Darkness. They carried what they called the Artifacts, objects that would bestow unknowable power to their bearers. But after the war, they disappeared.”

“The Digitabulum, or the Witchblade as like it seems to like being called nowadays, is made of pure light. The same kind of power that God granted to the Archangels. The same kind of power we need to restore our wee Nephilim.” 

“Hang on, Alex Underwood, War Journalist, Pulitzer Prize winner, is the bearer of the Digitabulum?”

“Well, Samuel dear, I do believe that there’ no taste for accordions. Besides, if the Witchblade choose to bound with Alexandra in her dying hour, who are we to test its judgement?” The witch smile,d and turned to Alex, offering her a kind hand. Alex grabbed it, and followed her inside one fo the many bedrooms. 

On a small bed, as pale as a ghost, stood a sleeping young man – Jack Klein, son of a human woman with the purest of souls, and of an Archangel, the Devil himself.

“The spell. It needs some minor readjustments. The Witchblade knows what we have to do.” She scribbled down the words, and gave them to Rowena, then, she took her place at Jack’s side, her right hand on his heart. The red light pulsated stronger and stronger, her flesh burning with liquid fire coming from within, and tendrils of azure energy, grace-like, left the bracelet, enveloping Jack’s whole being in a cascade of energy. “Now, witch!”

Rowena gasped, but did as she was told, murmuring the words, feeling them going through her, as she was nothing but a vessel, a vehicle for the immensurable power, the forces they were dealing with.

“ _Lux est lux, cinis cinerem._ _ Benedicat sibi caelum, et restituere in statera.  _ _ Omnia erunt sicut erant _ !”

Light and energy were suddenly channeled where Alex was touching Jack, and then, there was just an explosion - they couldn’t describe it any other way – that scattered them all over the place, and electricity crackled. 

Then, it was all over. And Alex stood at Jack’s bedside, grinning satisfied, and Rowena was holding her breath, just like the two men and the renegade Angel who had taken to themselves to rise the son of the Devil, the Antichrist, and turn him into a decent man. 

And then, there was Jack. 

Speechless, but definitely all right. Standing on his feet, confused. But well. Maybe even better than eh had ever been before. 

Alex chuckled. “Well, son of Heaven and Earth… welcome to the rest of your life. I hope you’ll survive the experience.” 


End file.
